Take My Hand (We'll Make It)
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Percy and Draco's relationship has been going well, but an evening at the Malfoys' might threaten it all. PercyDraco, for Grace


**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts.**

**Psychiatry Task 1: Write about a familial relationship getting in the way of a romantic relationship**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.**

**Word Count: 4305**

**Thanks to Angela for beta-ing!**

**WARNINGS: Some alcoholism in the beginning, referenced character death, and a lot of emotional angst**

**For Grace :)**

**Enjoy!**

Percy let out a startled, slightly disbelieving laugh as he looked at Draco and adjusted his glasses. "You want me to have dinner with your parents?"

No, Draco did not. He really, really did not. "They invited you," he said, doing his best to appear unconcerned. "They'd like to meet you."

Percy looked doubtful, and to be honest, Draco couldn't blame him. "Draco, they don't much like my family. I'll go if… if you wish. Is this something you want?"

"Theoretically? Yes." Draco unsettled his perfectly-in-place hair when he ran his hand through it. "I want them to like you."

Percy winced slightly. "But you don't think they will."

It wasn't a question. Draco just shrugged. "They're rather set in their ways."

Percy watched him closely, and Draco knew that his boyfriend was analyzing him closely. No one could get anything past Percy Weasley, that was for sure. They'd entered a comfortability in their relationship where Draco didn't resist the scrutiny anymore.

A freckled hand reached out to squeeze Draco's. "I'll go," Percy promised. His lips twitched slightly. "I'll dress up, even. Shake their hands. Say something nice."

Draco's grey eyes looked towards the ceiling before dropping down again. "Luckily, you aren't as barbaric as the rest of your family."

Once, that might have been meant as an insult, and Percy would have taken it as such. Now, though, it was recognized as the playful teasing it was. Draco wasn't overly fond of any of the Weasleys, though he supposed Bill and Ginny were civilized enough, but the hatred he'd once felt towards them had simmered down long ago.

Draco stood up, heading out of the sitting room and into the bedroom he shared with Percy. "Come on then, Weasley," he called over his shoulder. "You'll want to get some rest if you're facing my parents tomorrow."

He said it jokingly, but he could feel the headache behind his eyes forming from all the stress. He'd let go of his prejudices after the war—or at least, he was making an effort to, since old habits die hard—but his parents were another thing entirely. They were going to be… extremely touchy.

And, for all his virtues, Percy could be very prideful. It wouldn't be a good combination. Still, he wanted his lover and family to like each other. It would be very difficult to be split down the middle.

Percy walked over and dropped his head to kiss the younger man's cheek. "I think it will go better than you think," he murmured. "There will be bumps, I'm sure, but I'll do everything in my power to keep it from being a disaster."

Draco smiled gratefully, but it wasn't Percy he was afraid of. Without a word, he followed the red-haired man to their bed and lay down, burying his face in the pillow and hoping sleep would take him.

* * *

_Draco walked through the pub, wrinkling his nose at the drunk patrons but keeping his mouth shut. He was looking for inspiration—for what, he wasn't sure, and he didn't know why he was looking in the Leaky Cauldron, of all places. Maybe he wanted to look at the dregs of society and see something still worth fighting for. Maybe he just wanted to feel better about himself. _

_Whatever the case, he hadn't expected to see Percy Weasley among the poor sods. _

_He wasn't sure why he did, but he approached. _

"_Well, Weasley. How the mighty have fallen."_

_Percy, drunk and red-faced, barely spared him a glance. "Not tonight, Malfoy."_

_And the thing was, Draco recognized that closed-off expression. He knew those haunted eyes, the tight lines about the mouth, the hands that wouldn't stop trembling no matter how tightly they were clenched… he'd seen all those things in himself. _

_What he didn't understand was why a Weasley would be displaying those traits. _

"_At least tell me why you're here alone. You couldn't get one of your brothers to go out drinking with you? I'm surprised."_

_Percy ignored the jibe at his family—which was very odd indeed—and instead took another swig of his drink. "They don't know I'm here."_

_It was a surprisingly candid confession, and it intrigued Draco more than anything. "Is that so? Care to explain why you're drowning your sorrows?"_

_Another swig. "No."_

_Draco really didn't know why he thought he should stay… but he did. It wasn't quite compassion, but it wasn't that he was trying to get one over the Weasleys, either. He wanted to help. _

_Atonement, perhaps? His own sort of penance? But it could have been… something more. _

"_Weasley…" Now his tone was cautious, his hesitation clear. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm simply—curious."_

_Percy just shook his head, but Draco saw the way his eyes fluttered shut, as though the alcohol wasn't enough to numb the pain. He pressed deeper. _

"_Your lot keep preaching forgiveness for Death Eaters—surely, whatever you did can be forgiven if they… if I can."_

_Percy's hands fisted the fabric of his Muggle jeans. "No, I can't be forgiven. The damage has been done. All that's left to do is drink until the part of the brain that creates mental images is dead."_

_Draco stared at him for a moment. "You're an idiot," he said at last. "I wouldn't have thought this of you. You…" Draco ran a hand through his blond hair, frustrated at the man before him. "You used to have more sense than this. You weren't one to pity yourself—you always moved forward."_

_Even drunk, Percy was careful to keep his voice as eloquent as possible. "My brother died," he said savagely, "before I could apologize to him. So, no." Percy finished his drink. "I can't be forgiven."_

_Draco remembered that moment. He, too, had witnessed the death of Fred Weasley. It was a sobering memory. He could recall it with perfect clarity. "He'd already forgiven you, Weasley."_

_Percy didn't respond, just raised his fingers for another round. Making eye contact with Tom, Draco shook his head and pulled Percy's hand down. "Your brother could be cruel at times, Weasley," he said softly. "He was obnoxious, conceited, and didn't always care about the safety of others."_

_There it was—a fire had been lit in those empty blue orbs, and Draco felt triumph. _

"_Fred was a good man." Percy's breathing was ragged with rage. "He wasn't perfect, but he was never _evil_."_

_Draco lifted a brow. "Sounds rather like you."_

_Percy only blinked at him, his alcohol-fogged brain struggling to follow. Draco let him ponder that for a moment before getting to his feet. "Go home, Weasley. Or…" Draco realized, a bit belatedly, that Percy wasn't in any condition to Apparate. "I'll be right back," he said firmly, and stepped outside quickly to hail the Knight Bus. _

_He went back inside to escort Percy on—luckily, the man listed off his address without much trouble—and was about to walk away when he was stopped by a hand on his arm. _

"_Thank you, Malfoy." Percy's glasses sat crooked on his freckled nose, and Draco felt his mouth quirk upwards. "I needed to hear that."_

_Draco cleared his throat and urged Percy onto the bus. "Go home, Weasley."_

_The older man nodded and disappeared. Draco watched the bus race away, then Disapparated back to his flat. _

_The image of Percy's smile didn't fade away, though. _

* * *

Draco smoothed down his blue dress robes, Percy standing stiffly beside him. Draco straightened up and glanced his way. His dream of their first meeting after the war was still fresh in his mind, making him feel overly sentimental.

It wasn't a very Malfoy emotion, and he was struggling to mask it before they entered the manor.

Turning to Percy, he cleared his throat. "It will be fine," he reassured him softly. Then he lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

The couple was whisked inside by a house-elf, and Percy and Draco were shown to the sitting room. As they walked, Draco let his eyes glide over the bookshelves and display cases to the portraits hanging on the walls. His ancestors were whispering as they watched him enter with Percy. Some seemed confused, others downright disapproving. The portrait of his grandfather even asked him whether he'd been Imperiused.

Hearing this, Percy's shoulders squared defensively. Draco pulled him along, determined to ignore the invasion of his love life. "Grandmother likes you," he whispered to his lover.

Percy glanced over at the portrait in question, who was loudly berating her husband. Draco caught the words "pureblood," "intelligent," and "easy on the eyes."

She wasn't wrong, but Draco couldn't help but cringe at the face value at which she'd taken Percy.

Once they reached the sitting room, the gravity of what he was doing began to weigh in. Draco was breaking centuries' worth of traditions, just by having Percy in his home. And now… now he would introduce the other man to his parents. This was the real test, Draco thought with dread.

Lucius Malfoy stood, regal in his posture. His black dress robes fell elegantly to the floor, nearly upstaging his wife's purple garb. Lucius' eyes locked immediately onto Percy, who stared politely back—though Draco could almost feel him simmering beneath the surface.

The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and no one had even spoken yet. Draco swallowed with difficulty.

"Mother," he said cooly, placing a hand on the small of Percy's back to ground him. "Father. It's good to see you again."

Narcissa smiled brightly at her son and approached them. She hugged Draco tightly, but had enough class to welcome and shake Percy's hand. Lucius still hadn't moved. With a sigh, Draco walked over.

"Father," he hissed quietly while Narcissa ordered a house elf to take Percy's cloak, "I know that this is not ideal for you. It is, however, of great importance to me."

Ice blue eyes locked onto him. "This is highly irregular, Draco."

Draco stared evenly back; he had long ago stopped being afraid of his father. "I am aware."

Lucius regarded him for a moment more, then nodded curtly. He crossed the room to stiffly offer his hand to Percy, who was able to muster up some semblance of warmth as he shook it.

It was a start, at least.

"Percy Weasley. Draco has told us a bit about you," Narcissa said, breaking the silence. She gently led the red-haired man into the dining room. Draco and Lucius followed at a distance. "You work at the Ministry, I hear?"

"I do," Percy readily confirmed. "I work as a secretary in the minister's office."

One of Lucius' blond brows quirked upwards at the information; Draco dared to think him impressed. Narcissa hummed her own congratulations.

"That's quite an achievement for someone so young."

Percy puffed his chest out at the praise—a habit that was surprisingly endearing to Draco—and nodded at Narcissa. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa glanced at him. "Narcissa is fine, Percy."

Draco let out a sigh of relief. His mother was cooperating well. She seemed to like Percy, too. She always had been one to admire hard work, and Percy's success was evidence of that.

Just as they were seating themselves in the dining room, Lucius spoke up.

"Ambition," he began in his usual cold drawl, "is a trait most commonly associated with Slytherin. Yet, I hear you were a Gryffindor. Why is that, do you think?"

Percy's blue eyes flickered over to the older man. "I possess traits from both houses."

Lucius steepled his fingers, and Draco knew he was watching closely for a reaction. "Ambition, dedication—all Slytherin. Are you as reckless as your Gryffindor brothers?"

Percy sat down, his face carefully blank. "No, I am not. We all have a tendency to be very loud in our opinions, however." The admission of weakness wasn't typical of Percy, but it caught Lucius off-guard, and he could hardly humiliate when such a thing was offered willingly. This, Draco knew, had been Percy's goal.

Draco made sure to sit between his father and lover.

The meal passed mostly in silence. Lucius asked questions here and there, trying to trip Percy up, but the younger man had been through a war, too. He wasn't loose-lipped, and he wasn't careless about what he revealed. Sometimes, Draco truly did wonder how Percy hadn't ended up in Slytherin.

Then dessert came, and Lucius struck a blow so low, even Narcissa dropped her silverware.

"It truly is a shame, what happened to your brother. It was an unnecessary casualty."

For the first time that evening, Percy's face blossomed with heat. Before he could say anything, though, Draco had slammed down his fists. "Father!" he shouted angrily.

"Draco." There was a cold triumph in his eyes that Draco didn't like. "Please refrain from breaking the table."

"My brother," Percy cut in, in a voice that was deadly quiet, "died a hero, just like every other man, woman, and child who lost their life fighting _against _Voldemort."

Three pairs of eyes snapped over to Percy. Draco was offended by the Death Eater jibe, despite the fact that it was well-deserved, and that it wasn't aimed at him personally. The implication that no one on Voldemort's side could have possibly been anything like a hero stung, and he could hardly believe it had come from Percy.

Lucius' lips thinned. "I fought for what I believed to be right, as did my _son_. Or had you forgotten that?"

Percy's hands were trembling, and Draco honestly didn't know if he wanted to soothe his lover or shake him. "I can look past _Draco's_ mistakes."

"Who are you to say whose side made the mistakes? You're too young to know what the war was truly like, when it was first started, and might I remind you that" —Lucius sneered— "_you_ did not partake in the war."

Percy stood abruptly as the word Lucius had left unsaid hung in the air. _Coward._

Draco stayed in his seat, horribly numb. He hadn't thought this experience would be pleasant, but he hadn't thought it would go this badly, either. Worse still, both his father and his lover had left him feeling cold and wide open, ready for examination by whomever passed by.

His actions in the war had been hailed by Lucius, condemned by Percy. He was ashamed of his choices, but the beliefs that had influenced those decisions… he couldn't banish them. He wasn't even sure he wanted to.

His decisions after the war disgusted Lucius, but pleased Percy. Both young men had been trying to atone for past mistakes; Lucius didn't think he had anything to apologize for.

Draco was in the middle of them both, being pulled from either direction. It was very clear to him, all of a sudden, that he would have to choose between his family and the life he could have with Percy. They would never be able to live in harmony, even a tentative one.

It was already a hard enough decision to make, but now that he knew both men were prepared to throw his past at him when things became heated… the choice was even more difficult.

Still, he watched to see what Percy would do. After a moment, Percy left. He glanced back at Draco once before disappearing through the doors. Narcissa stared stonily after him. Lucius was triumphant. Draco was just numb.

Several minutes passed in silence. Eventually, Draco got shakily to his feet. Lucius and Narcissa both stood as well, but he held up a hand to silence them before they could say anything. Slowly, he pivoted to face his father.

"That was supposed to go well," he said hollowly.

A crease formed between his father's brow, as though he was trying to decipher Draco's words. "He isn't enough for you, Draco. He left easily enough."

Draco closed his eyes. "You humiliated him and his family."

Lucius drew himself up haughtily, and Draco knew there wouldn't be an apology. He'd never hated his father more. "I did what I had to do, Draco. My job is to protect this family, above all else."

Draco closed his eyes. Apparently, his interests didn't factor in.

"Draco." He opened his eyes when he heard his mother's voice. "Please come with me… I wish to speak with you before you go."

It was clear that Lucius wasn't invited, and that was the only reason Draco followed his mother out of the room. She led him through the manor until they reached his old bedroom. Taking his hand gently, she led him into the room.

Narcissa's blond hair was done up elaborately, and her purple robes were as stunning as ever. Everything about her screamed beauty and elegance, but the cold demeanor she showed the public slipped away and she was just his mother. His father never lost his aloofness.

Draco swallowed as she took his hands.

"Your father means well, Draco," she murmured. "He'd worried what will happen to you if you continue this relationship. Times will never change for him."

"What I want doesn't matter to him," Draco said bitterly. "He cares only for our reputation."

"That isn't such a bad thing, Draco."

"He _humiliated_ me," Draco protested, grey eyes flashing. "He ridiculed the man I—" He stopped himself. "The man I'm seeing."

Narcissa watched him carefully. "Do you love him, Draco? Do you love a Weasley?"

He didn't _know_. He wasn't sure. He'd thought he might… but Percy hadn't stuck around at dinner. And then Draco wondered if perhaps he was the one in the wrong—should he have gone after the other man?

Draco slipped his hands out of Narcissa's grasp. "I have to go, Mother."

He left her alone without another word.

* * *

George stared at Draco, mahogany brown eyes unblinking as they took him in.

"You… want to know where Percy is?"

Draco's left eye twitched. "Yes."

The owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes leaned against the counter and tilted his head at Draco. "But wouldn't you know? You two have been living together."

Draco hesitated. "I haven't seen him in two days."

George lost his good humor and straightened up, looking alarmed. "Are you telling me Percy's been missing for two _days?_"

Draco spread his hands out in exasperation. "We had a row!"

George looked at him sharply. "What about?"

Draco was about to snap that it was none of his business, but then he stilled his tongue. George was pale, and his hands were shaking. Draco reminded himself that he'd already lost one brother, albeit years ago; he was terrified of losing another, and was lashing out at Draco.

For once, Draco would take it.

"I'd rather not say," he said evenly. "I just need to speak with him."

George ran a hand over his jaw, looking stressed. He paced back and forth, occasionally looking back at Draco. Finally, he said, "Listen, I care a lot about my family, and I'm trusting you to take care of Percy. He's been through a lot, and he needs someone who understands that."

Draco bit his lip. He understood that, yes. He also understood that this relationship was supposed to go both ways. It hadn't seemed like an issue until recently.

"Do you know where he might be?" Draco asked, opting not to respond to George's statement.

The older man frowned slightly, but he answered. "Try Fred's grave… he goes there, sometimes, when the war gets to him. Maybe that's what happened here." George grasped Draco's shoulder in his strong grip. "If you can't find him in a few hours, let me know."

There was real fear in George's eyes, and Draco felt a pang of guilt; he'd been withholding information that alluded to Percy's safety in favor of maintaining privacy.

Draco nodded at George, then began to walk towards the shop's exit. Right before he left, he paused and turned to the Gryffindor. "He left a note on my bedside saying he needed space, and I've given it to him." Draco's voice was strained. "I need to confront him now."

Some of the worry left George's face, but he still looked nervous. "Okay," he said softly.

Draco spun on his heel and, once out the door, Disapparated.

* * *

Once in the graveyard, it didn't take long to locate Percy. His maroon jumper and red hair were the only splashes of color in the area, and Draco made a beeline for him.

Draco came to a stop behind his lover. "Hello," he murmured.

Percy gave a start, his head whipping around to face his boyfriend. He recovered from his surprise after a moment and said, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Draco quietly examined the other man, noting the redness in his face and the tear tracks on his cheeks. He felt guilty, suddenly. Grief was so clearly etched onto Percy's face, and Draco considered that, perhaps, Percy hadn't meant to leave him with no support… he'd just been overwhelmed with the past. That was something Draco knew well.

But it didn't excuse the things that had been said that night.

Like always, Percy seemed to read his mind. "I didn't mean… what I said at the dinner, I didn't mean it." Percy paused, his brow creasing as he thought. "No. I meant it, but I didn't mean to hurt you. I think those were mistakes you made, but I don't think you're a bad person. I don't think you were ever like the rest of them."

It wasn't a great apology, but it was honest, and that's what mattered most to Draco. So he lowered himself onto the dead grass beside Percy.

"You… It hurt when you left," he murmured. "I know it wasn't going well, and I know my father said some inexcusable things, but you did, too."

Percy closed his eyes. "I know. I'm sorry about that. I felt attacked, and… I'm never good about controlling my defensiveness. It was stupid to think that I could."

He looked so ashamed and regretful that Draco knew Fred hadn't been the only thing Percy had stewed over in the past few days. Once upon a time, Draco might have held on to this grudge. But he was more mature than that now, and he'd done a lot of thinking recently; he'd come to a decision regarding their relationship, one he wasn't sure Percy would like.

"I realized that I'm going to have to choose between you and my family," he said softly. "It's clear that you're not going to get along with my father, even if my mother is willing to extend the olive branch… and if you do, it won't be for a very long time."

Percy's eyes widened in alarm and dread. Draco reached out to squeeze his hand.

"We're in a rough spot right now," Draco whispered, "but I think we can work past it. I'm choosing you, if you'll… if you'll still have me."

Percy stared at him, as though hardly daring to believe his ears. "I thought it meant the world to you? Your family, your ideals?"

Draco locked eyes with him. "It does, but there's no world for me without you." Draco laid back on the grass and put his hands behind his head. After a second of hesitation, Percy followed suit. Draco turned his head to the side. "Which Muggle said 'Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet'?"

As suspected, that coaxed a smile from Percy, however small it was. "I hadn't realized you paid attention to my quoting."

Draco huffed. "I don't mind them."

"I've created a monster, haven't I?"

Draco glanced over. "Answer the question, Weasley."

Percy closed his eyes. "Stephen Hawking. Why?"

Draco stretched his arms. "I think it's time we stop looking at the past and start looking towards the future."

Percy looked surprised. "Very wise of you," he murmured.

Draco offered a lazy grin. "I have my moments."

Tentatively, Percy laced their fingers together; Draco didn't pull away. "I agree with you, though. About looking towards the future."

Draco exhaled slowly and stared up at the sky. It was impossibly blue. "I'm sorry for what my father said."

Percy rolled over to face him, his freckled face pale, but determined. "I'm sorry for what I said."

"I know." Draco nodded. "I should have put a stop to the entire thing sooner."

Warm breath ghosted across Draco's cheek as Percy moved to lean over him. "None of that was your fault. I'm sorry for leaving you to deal with it. I really, really shouldn't have, Draco. If I ever see him again, I… I'll try to be better. To rise above it."

"Oh yes, there will be blood if you ever see him again," Draco said with a sigh. "You two will be at each other's throats for a long while yet, but I've resigned myself to that." Then he glanced over at his lover sternly. "You can take me out to dinner to make up for it, though. And you can continue to do it for the rest of the week."

Percy cleared his throat sheepishly. "I can do that."

Draco lifted his head to peck Percy on the lips. "You'd better. Now, come on; we need to tell your brother you're alive."

Percy scrambled to his feet, then helped Draco up. "Did you scare George?" he asked accusingly—but there was mirth in his eyes.

Draco held up his hands in defense. "Just a bit!"

The chuckle that followed chased away some of the haunted darkness in Percy's eyes, and, with one last glance at Fred's gravestone, the two exited the graveyard, their fingers linked.

It wasn't perfect, and they would have to work for their relationship—but Draco had faith that, eventually, they would be completely happy.

They were halfway there already, after all.

**A/N:**

**WC: Assorted Appreciation: 1. "Say something nice."**

**WC: Disney Challenge: C1. Write about a cynical person trying to disprove something/one**

**WC: Trope of the Month: 6. "I've created a monster!"**

**WC: Space: 12. "Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet." - Stephen Hawking**

**WC: Book Club: John — (occupation) business owner, (emotion) anger, (word) blame**

**WC: Showtime: 12. (emotion) doubt**

**WC: Amber's Attic: 10. Write about something escalating quickly**

**WC: Sophie's Shelf: 17. (genre) family**

**WC: Press Play: 2. (item) glasses**

**WC: Liza's Loves: 28. (word) inspiration**

**WC: Angel's Archive: 3. Alt. Write about two people who dislike each other getting along**

**WC: Scamander's Case: 13. "Look at where we are. Look at where we started." - That Would Be Enough, Hamilton**

**WC: Bex's Basement: 1. "The damage has been done. All that's left to do is drink until the part of the brain that creates mental pictures is dead."**

**WC: Film Festival: 30. "I'll be right back."**

**WC: Marvel Appreciation: 2. "You're an idiot."**

**WC: Lyric Alley: 3. You said 'I don't care what I'm thinking about'**

**Seasonal: Days of the Year: October 4 — Write about trying to raise a smile out of someone**

**Seasonal: Autumn: 8. (word) unsettled**

**Seasonal: Colors: 7. Mahogany **

**Seasonal: Birthstones: 5. Lapis Lazuli — "I thought it meant the world to you?" / "It does, but there's no world for me without you."**

**Seasonal: Flowers: 1. (theme) chaos**

**Seasonal: Tarot Cards: 4. Write about making a difficult choice**

**Seasonal: Air: 10. (word) gravity**

**Seasonal: Bake a Cake: (color) black**

**Seasonal: Ravenclaw: Traits 9. Arrogant, Other 9. bookcase**

**Seasonal: Astrology: 2. (character) Draco Malfoy**

**Seasonal: Religious Holidays: 4. (action) shouting**

**Seasonal: History: 16. (word) mature**

**Funfair: Apple Picking: Tree 2: (emotion) anger**

**Monster Mash: List 5: 2. "Oh yes, there will be blood."**

**Horror Movie: Cliche: 3. "I'll be right back."**

**Galleon: 24. (word) blood**

**Zodiac: Scorpio - weaknesses: distrusting**

**Stickers: Rare: Write about visiting someone's grave**

**Pumpkin Toss: 12. (color) maroon**

**44\. Invasion**

**81\. Fic with flashbacks**

**572\. pillow**


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